Of Witches and Warlocks: The Trouble with Spells by Lacey Weatherford
Chapter 22
I spent the next twenty-four hours in and out of awareness. I welcomed every single pain shot when it came, for it offered me a mental release from my anguish. The doctor had been in to visit with my parents again, and I was scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning, if the second scan showed I was ready. They were going to put some titanium around my vertebrae to help keep it together properly.
Grandma had returned to Sedona and was organizing the search for Vance with the remaining numbers of our coven. I knew our powers were greatly diminished with the loss of Vance and Marsha, as well as Dad and I not being there.
Mom said the police were still looking for Vance as well. He was the only one unaccounted for from the school. All the kids in attendance had been shuttled down to the football field after the explosion, and police had interviewed every single one before releasing them to their loved ones.
My mom cried when she told me I was the only survivor from my class, and I cried for an hour straight. Everyone at home was calling my escape a miracle, but I knew the only reason I’d been spared was because of the magical shield that protected me from the falling debris. I felt undeserving.
All I could think about was how Maggie and I had been laughing one minute, and she was dead the next. She was probably buried right next to me. I imagined her lying under the rubble while people walked on top of her to get to me, and the guilt was excruciating. Dad kept telling me it wasn’t my fault, and Maggie was probably already dead before the rescue people arrived. It didn’t help me feel any better.
Grandma called to say the school was closing early for the holidays. Christmas was only two and a half weeks away, and the school board felt the kids needed the next month to get through the trauma they had experienced. It would also give them time to repair the school. Grief counselors would be available at Verde Valley Medical Center for anyone who needed them.
Grandma also said she located a witch in Phoenix by the name of Sandy who had healing powers, and she was on her way to Flagstaff to offer her services. Dad thanked Grandma profusely and said he would keep an eye out for her.
When the woman arrived, the nurse’s station called my room saying I had a visitor, and my dad went to get her. I liked her as soon as she entered the room. She was an older woman with short, salt and pepper hair. She had lots of smile lines around her kind eyes, and there was simply an air of goodness about her.
“I’m so glad I could come and help you,” she said, reaching for one of my bandaged hands, the glass recently picked from them.
“Thank you for coming.” I smiled.
“Oh! I see you have quite a lot of pain and not just from your injuries either.”
“Yes,” I replied, my thoughts going instantly to Vance.
“Well, let me see what I can do.”
She began running her hands across me, similar to the way Vance had done. Every time she hit a sore spot she lingered a little longer. Then she reached underneath me and placed one of her hands under my broken spine.
I groaned at the pressure.
She placed her other hand on my stomach, and I began to feel a change as white light started glowing from beneath her hands. Instantly, soothing warmth flowed through me, and I knew without a doubt the bone had been repaired. There was no more pain from my injury.
She removed her hands. “I left the cuts in your skin, but removed the pain. I figured one miracle would be enough for the doctors to fuss about.”
“You’re wonderful,” my mom said, getting up to grab the woman by the hand with unshed tears of appreciation in her eyes. “How can we ever repay you?”
“No repayment is necessary,” Sandy said with a smile, clasping my mother’s hand in both of hers. “I was devastated to hear about what happened to all those poor kids. I’m only too happy to be of some help.”
“We’ll always be in your debt,” my dad spoke.
“Yes,” I added. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you . . . ”
“Be happy and live your life.” Sandy reached out to pat me.
The nurse came into the room shortly after my dad left to walk Sandy back to her car.
“I just wanted to let you know that someone from radiology will be here to get you soon. It’s time for your second scan. The doctor wants to check you one more time prior to surgery, to make sure you’re ready.”
“Okay,” I replied with a nod, hoping they would be quick about it so I could get out of there.
“You look a lot better today.” The nurse paused to glance at me. “You aren’t nearly as flushed as you were a while ago.”
“I’m feeling much better,” I said, honestly.
“Well, that’s good,” she smiled. “Hopefully it won’t be too much longer until they come. Let’s get you well!” She checked my vitals and IV before leaving the room.
“I want to go home now,” I said mournfully to my mom.
“Patience, darling. Hopefully you’ll be able to leave by this evening. These things take time.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I don’t have time for this. I need to find Vance.”
The x-ray tech came in then. “Hi. I’m John,” he announced in the same manner as every medical person I’d met during this whole experience. “I’m here to take you for another scan of your injury. Just lay back and enjoy the ride.”
He wheeled my bed out of the room and back into radiology, where we repeated the same procedures as the previous night. After a while, he came from behind his equipment looking a little confused.
“I have a few questions about the scans I took, so I’m going to retake them to ensure the doctor gets a good picture.”
“No problem.” I tried not to smile, and we went through the whole thing again.
I hadn’t been back in my room for very long when the doctor came in looking a little strange.
“I have good news, I guess,” he started, reaching to scratch behind his ear. “Either there was some sort of mix up with our scans yesterday, or we’re witnessing a miracle, but I can’t find anything on these scans that remotely resembles a fracture. Would you mind if I examine you?”
“Not at all.”
“Are you in any pain?” he asked, looking me over a bit warily.
“No,” I said. It was mostly true. The pain I had was nothing a doctor could fix.
“Can you carefully roll to the side?”
“Sure.” I complied easily with his request.
The doctor ran his hands up and down my back repeatedly.
“Let’s have you stand now.”
I did so effortlessly, though I felt a bit groggy still from my pain medicine. He had me move, slowly at first, and then ended up having me bend and stretch. I was starting to feel like a circus monkey after several minutes of doing everything he’d asked, but he finally told me to sit down.
“Young lady, I have no explanation for what has happened here, but you seem to be fine. I see no reason to keep you here any longer. If your parents are in agreement, I’ll start the papers for your discharge.”
“If you’re sure she’s okay, we’re fine with it,” my dad replied, smiling. He and Mom both thanked the doctor, who left the room still scratching his head.
One hour later I was free—showered, dressed in clean clothes, and in the car headed back toward Sedona. My heart became lighter and lighter with each mile we drove closer to home, and I started laughing.
“What is it?” Mom turned to look at me, perplexed at my attitude.
“He’s still here somewhere,” I said, unable to contain my relief. “The physical pull hurts less and less the closer I get. He has to be alive somewhere in Sedona.”
“Well, don’t get your hopes too high, Pumpkin. There’s a reason we haven’t found him yet. He must be held captive, or he would’ve shown himself by now,” my dad said.
“I know.” I started to cry, my previous moment of joy shattered with despair. “I can’t take it anymore! I have to find him. If only I could hear him.”
&nbs
p; We pulled into the driveway when the first wave of agony hit me.
“Aaahhhh!” I screamed, doubling in pain, grabbing my wrist.
“What’s happening?” my mom called to my dad. She unbuckled, jumping to lean over the seat, looking at me in fearful concern.
“Aaahhhh!” I screamed again, this time grabbing at my other wrist. “The pain! Make it stop! Please!”
Dad threw the car into park and turned around. He grabbed the bandages at my wrists, ripping them away from my body. As he exposed my skin, both he and my mom gasped together. Though the skin wasn’t broken, angry red slash lines began to appear on my arms, followed by what looked like bite marks.
“What is it?” my mom yelled frantically as I cried out yet again.
“We have to get her to my mother’s,” Dad said, turning back behind the wheel and throwing the car in reverse. “They’ve started feeding on Vance!”
I lay moaning on a cot, surrounded by what was left of our coven. The rituals had been ongoing for most of the night. My physical connection to Vance was obviously as strong as ever. They had fed on him several times in the last few hours. The slashes and bite marks would appear while it was happening. Following the feedings, we began to notice gray marks starting to creep up my veins. My dad said this was happening because they were feeding him their blood to help replenish his. He explained that this was how the exchange happened, how Vance would eventually become a demon.
I curled myself into a ball and cried inconsolably for hours on end. I cried until there were no tears left. Yet still I sobbed, my body wracked with uncontrollable spasms. I cried until I fell into exhaustion. Then they would begin feeding on him again, and the whole cycle would start again.
I was losing him. I could feel it. The taste of poison was heavy in my mouth as it slipped through his body, and death became a welcome thought. I only wanted to die.
“Portia, you’ve got to fight this,” Grandma said, as my dad lifted my limp body so she could pour some type of herbal concoction down my throat.
“I don’t want to live,” I groaned in agony. “Not if I can’t have him.”
“Drink some more of this,” she commanded, shoving the drink back into my face. I tried to take a swallow, but I began vomiting.
“Now what?” my mom said in frustration from where she sat in the corner.
“Vance’s body is trying to reject the blood they’re giving him,” my dad explained. “He’s the one who’s causing her to vomit.”
“I can’t take this anymore,” she said, storming from the room.
“Where are you going?” Dad called after her.
“To pray at the church.” She slammed the door behind her.
Dad looked at Grandma, and she shrugged.
“Every little bit helps. This doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe God can step in.”
“Well, something better work!” he shouted angrily at her. “This has been going on for three days!”
Three days? I thought to myself. Apparently, I hadn’t been conscious the entire time. That’s when I started noticing the appearances of the other coven members. They were haggard, unwashed, unshaven, and their clothes rumpled from overuse. They were tired, and I immediately felt pity for all of them.
“Tell them to go home,” I whispered.
“What?” Grandma asked me, leaning in closer so she could hear me better.
“Tell them to go home. They need sleep. They’ll work better with it.” I gave a great sigh. “Let them eat and get showered. Nothing is working right now. I’ll be fine while they tend to their needs.”
“She’s right,” dad said with a short nod. “We need to let them get some rest while they can. Who knows where this might lead.”
Grandma agreed and called the others together. They all refused to go, so Grandma pulled rank and ordered them, as their high priestess, to leave and take care of themselves. I watched them depart, one by one, until they were all gone. It wasn’t long before Grandma and Dad were slumbering on two cots on either side of me.
Lying still in the dim silence, I looked at my arm. The gray streaks had now progressed to my elbows. I had to find him. It was up to me now. The man I loved was being destroyed, and I couldn’t give in without trying.
Slowly, I pushed my lethargic body into a sitting position and sat there breathing heavily for a minute, then attempted to stand. I was very dizzy when I did, so I made my way to the wall, leaning against it and carefully creeping from the room.
I managed to climb the stairs, through the house, and out under the night sky. I didn’t know which way to go once I made it to the street, so I turned left and started walking, albeit a bit haphazardly.
I hadn’t walked very far when I noticed my pain seemed to be increasing. I stopped. I must be going the wrong way. Turning around, I walked in the direction I had come from, and the pain began to decrease slightly. Realizing I’d discovered a major tool in helping find him, I totally centered myself on listening to my body. If the pain became more intense, then I would do a course correction until I felt better.
I had to pause to rest several times, either from fatigue or during an attack on Vance. I stopped anywhere I could find a place, leaning on a fence post, sitting on someone’s porch swing, and even laying on the hood of someone’s car. I kept trying to tell my body this was all an illusion—these things weren’t really happening to me, only to Vance. Unfortunately, my system seemed to only listen to the pain it was experiencing. As I was able, I would stand and begin walking again.
It was a slow way to travel, but eventually I found myself across town in an old business section. I disturbed a couple of alley cats in the misty night air when I stumbled over a garbage can left lying on the ground, and they screeched at me as they ran off. It was precisely the adrenaline rush I needed and perked me up a little.
I rounded the corner of the alley and stopped to stare at the sight ahead of me. Across the street was the bar Vance had been tailing Shelly to. Instantly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
Shelly had come out of the chemistry lab as I had been going in. “You’ll never win,” she’d said, shoving past me. Then the explosion had happened. She had meant for me to die in the blast, so she could take Vance. That meant she was obviously a witch, or a demon for that matter.
All of a sudden, I knew exactly where Vance was.
I spent the next twenty-four hours in and out of awareness. I welcomed every single pain shot when it came, for it offered me a mental release from my anguish. The doctor had been in to visit with my parents again, and I was scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning, if the second scan showed I was ready. They were going to put some titanium around my vertebrae to help keep it together properly.
Grandma had returned to Sedona and was organizing the search for Vance with the remaining numbers of our coven. I knew our powers were greatly diminished with the loss of Vance and Marsha, as well as Dad and I not being there.
Mom said the police were still looking for Vance as well. He was the only one unaccounted for from the school. All the kids in attendance had been shuttled down to the football field after the explosion, and police had interviewed every single one before releasing them to their loved ones.
My mom cried when she told me I was the only survivor from my class, and I cried for an hour straight. Everyone at home was calling my escape a miracle, but I knew the only reason I’d been spared was because of the magical shield that protected me from the falling debris. I felt undeserving.
All I could think about was how Maggie and I had been laughing one minute, and she was dead the next. She was probably buried right next to me. I imagined her lying under the rubble while people walked on top of her to get to me, and the guilt was excruciating. Dad kept telling me it wasn’t my fault, and Maggie was probably already dead before the rescue people arrived. It didn’t help me feel any better.
Grandma called to say the school was closing early for the holidays. Christmas was only two and a half weeks away, and the school board felt the kids needed the next month to get through the trauma they had experienced. It would also give them time to repair the school. Grief counselors would be available at Verde Valley Medical Center for anyone who needed them.
Grandma also said she located a witch in Phoenix by the name of Sandy who had healing powers, and she was on her way to Flagstaff to offer her services. Dad thanked Grandma profusely and said he would keep an eye out for her.
When the woman arrived, the nurse’s station called my room saying I had a visitor, and my dad went to get her. I liked her as soon as she entered the room. She was an older woman with short, salt and pepper hair. She had lots of smile lines around her kind eyes, and there was simply an air of goodness about her.
“I’m so glad I could come and help you,” she said, reaching for one of my bandaged hands, the glass recently picked from them.
“Thank you for coming.” I smiled.
“Oh! I see you have quite a lot of pain and not just from your injuries either.”
“Yes,” I replied, my thoughts going instantly to Vance.
“Well, let me see what I can do.”
She began running her hands across me, similar to the way Vance had done. Every time she hit a sore spot she lingered a little longer. Then she reached underneath me and placed one of her hands under my broken spine.
I groaned at the pressure.
She placed her other hand on my stomach, and I began to feel a change as white light started glowing from beneath her hands. Instantly, soothing warmth flowed through me, and I knew without a doubt the bone had been repaired. There was no more pain from my injury.
She removed her hands. “I left the cuts in your skin, but removed the pain. I figured one miracle would be enough for the doctors to fuss about.”
“You’re wonderful,” my mom said, getting up to grab the woman by the hand with unshed tears of appreciation in her eyes. “How can we ever repay you?”
“No repayment is necessary,” Sandy said with a smile, clasping my mother’s hand in both of hers. “I was devastated to hear about what happened to all those poor kids. I’m only too happy to be of some help.”
“We’ll always be in your debt,” my dad spoke.
“Yes,” I added. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you . . . ”
“Be happy and live your life.” Sandy reached out to pat me.
The nurse came into the room shortly after my dad left to walk Sandy back to her car.
“I just wanted to let you know that someone from radiology will be here to get you soon. It’s time for your second scan. The doctor wants to check you one more time prior to surgery, to make sure you’re ready.”
“Okay,” I replied with a nod, hoping they would be quick about it so I could get out of there.
“You look a lot better today.” The nurse paused to glance at me. “You aren’t nearly as flushed as you were a while ago.”
“I’m feeling much better,” I said, honestly.
“Well, that’s good,” she smiled. “Hopefully it won’t be too much longer until they come. Let’s get you well!” She checked my vitals and IV before leaving the room.
“I want to go home now,” I said mournfully to my mom.
“Patience, darling. Hopefully you’ll be able to leave by this evening. These things take time.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I don’t have time for this. I need to find Vance.”
The x-ray tech came in then. “Hi. I’m John,” he announced in the same manner as every medical person I’d met during this whole experience. “I’m here to take you for another scan of your injury. Just lay back and enjoy the ride.”
He wheeled my bed out of the room and back into radiology, where we repeated the same procedures as the previous night. After a while, he came from behind his equipment looking a little confused.
“I have a few questions about the scans I took, so I’m going to retake them to ensure the doctor gets a good picture.”
“No problem.” I tried not to smile, and we went through the whole thing again.
I hadn’t been back in my room for very long when the doctor came in looking a little strange.
“I have good news, I guess,” he started, reaching to scratch behind his ear. “Either there was some sort of mix up with our scans yesterday, or we’re witnessing a miracle, but I can’t find anything on these scans that remotely resembles a fracture. Would you mind if I examine you?”
“Not at all.”
“Are you in any pain?” he asked, looking me over a bit warily.
“No,” I said. It was mostly true. The pain I had was nothing a doctor could fix.
“Can you carefully roll to the side?”
“Sure.” I complied easily with his request.
The doctor ran his hands up and down my back repeatedly.
“Let’s have you stand now.”
I did so effortlessly, though I felt a bit groggy still from my pain medicine. He had me move, slowly at first, and then ended up having me bend and stretch. I was starting to feel like a circus monkey after several minutes of doing everything he’d asked, but he finally told me to sit down.
“Young lady, I have no explanation for what has happened here, but you seem to be fine. I see no reason to keep you here any longer. If your parents are in agreement, I’ll start the papers for your discharge.”
“If you’re sure she’s okay, we’re fine with it,” my dad replied, smiling. He and Mom both thanked the doctor, who left the room still scratching his head.
One hour later I was free—showered, dressed in clean clothes, and in the car headed back toward Sedona. My heart became lighter and lighter with each mile we drove closer to home, and I started laughing.
“What is it?” Mom turned to look at me, perplexed at my attitude.
“He’s still here somewhere,” I said, unable to contain my relief. “The physical pull hurts less and less the closer I get. He has to be alive somewhere in Sedona.”
“Well, don’t get your hopes too high, Pumpkin. There’s a reason we haven’t found him yet. He must be held captive, or he would’ve shown himself by now,” my dad said.
“I know.” I started to cry, my previous moment of joy shattered with despair. “I can’t take it anymore! I have to find him. If only I could hear him.”
&nbs
“Aaahhhh!” I screamed, doubling in pain, grabbing my wrist.
“What’s happening?” my mom called to my dad. She unbuckled, jumping to lean over the seat, looking at me in fearful concern.
“Aaahhhh!” I screamed again, this time grabbing at my other wrist. “The pain! Make it stop! Please!”
Dad threw the car into park and turned around. He grabbed the bandages at my wrists, ripping them away from my body. As he exposed my skin, both he and my mom gasped together. Though the skin wasn’t broken, angry red slash lines began to appear on my arms, followed by what looked like bite marks.
“What is it?” my mom yelled frantically as I cried out yet again.
“We have to get her to my mother’s,” Dad said, turning back behind the wheel and throwing the car in reverse. “They’ve started feeding on Vance!”
I lay moaning on a cot, surrounded by what was left of our coven. The rituals had been ongoing for most of the night. My physical connection to Vance was obviously as strong as ever. They had fed on him several times in the last few hours. The slashes and bite marks would appear while it was happening. Following the feedings, we began to notice gray marks starting to creep up my veins. My dad said this was happening because they were feeding him their blood to help replenish his. He explained that this was how the exchange happened, how Vance would eventually become a demon.
I curled myself into a ball and cried inconsolably for hours on end. I cried until there were no tears left. Yet still I sobbed, my body wracked with uncontrollable spasms. I cried until I fell into exhaustion. Then they would begin feeding on him again, and the whole cycle would start again.
I was losing him. I could feel it. The taste of poison was heavy in my mouth as it slipped through his body, and death became a welcome thought. I only wanted to die.
“Portia, you’ve got to fight this,” Grandma said, as my dad lifted my limp body so she could pour some type of herbal concoction down my throat.
“I don’t want to live,” I groaned in agony. “Not if I can’t have him.”
“Drink some more of this,” she commanded, shoving the drink back into my face. I tried to take a swallow, but I began vomiting.
“Now what?” my mom said in frustration from where she sat in the corner.
“Vance’s body is trying to reject the blood they’re giving him,” my dad explained. “He’s the one who’s causing her to vomit.”
“I can’t take this anymore,” she said, storming from the room.
“Where are you going?” Dad called after her.
“To pray at the church.” She slammed the door behind her.
Dad looked at Grandma, and she shrugged.
“Every little bit helps. This doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe God can step in.”
“Well, something better work!” he shouted angrily at her. “This has been going on for three days!”
Three days? I thought to myself. Apparently, I hadn’t been conscious the entire time. That’s when I started noticing the appearances of the other coven members. They were haggard, unwashed, unshaven, and their clothes rumpled from overuse. They were tired, and I immediately felt pity for all of them.
“Tell them to go home,” I whispered.
“What?” Grandma asked me, leaning in closer so she could hear me better.
“Tell them to go home. They need sleep. They’ll work better with it.” I gave a great sigh. “Let them eat and get showered. Nothing is working right now. I’ll be fine while they tend to their needs.”
“She’s right,” dad said with a short nod. “We need to let them get some rest while they can. Who knows where this might lead.”
Grandma agreed and called the others together. They all refused to go, so Grandma pulled rank and ordered them, as their high priestess, to leave and take care of themselves. I watched them depart, one by one, until they were all gone. It wasn’t long before Grandma and Dad were slumbering on two cots on either side of me.
Lying still in the dim silence, I looked at my arm. The gray streaks had now progressed to my elbows. I had to find him. It was up to me now. The man I loved was being destroyed, and I couldn’t give in without trying.
Slowly, I pushed my lethargic body into a sitting position and sat there breathing heavily for a minute, then attempted to stand. I was very dizzy when I did, so I made my way to the wall, leaning against it and carefully creeping from the room.
I managed to climb the stairs, through the house, and out under the night sky. I didn’t know which way to go once I made it to the street, so I turned left and started walking, albeit a bit haphazardly.
I hadn’t walked very far when I noticed my pain seemed to be increasing. I stopped. I must be going the wrong way. Turning around, I walked in the direction I had come from, and the pain began to decrease slightly. Realizing I’d discovered a major tool in helping find him, I totally centered myself on listening to my body. If the pain became more intense, then I would do a course correction until I felt better.
I had to pause to rest several times, either from fatigue or during an attack on Vance. I stopped anywhere I could find a place, leaning on a fence post, sitting on someone’s porch swing, and even laying on the hood of someone’s car. I kept trying to tell my body this was all an illusion—these things weren’t really happening to me, only to Vance. Unfortunately, my system seemed to only listen to the pain it was experiencing. As I was able, I would stand and begin walking again.
It was a slow way to travel, but eventually I found myself across town in an old business section. I disturbed a couple of alley cats in the misty night air when I stumbled over a garbage can left lying on the ground, and they screeched at me as they ran off. It was precisely the adrenaline rush I needed and perked me up a little.
I rounded the corner of the alley and stopped to stare at the sight ahead of me. Across the street was the bar Vance had been tailing Shelly to. Instantly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.
Shelly had come out of the chemistry lab as I had been going in. “You’ll never win,” she’d said, shoving past me. Then the explosion had happened. She had meant for me to die in the blast, so she could take Vance. That meant she was obviously a witch, or a demon for that matter.
All of a sudden, I knew exactly where Vance was.